Violet Vacancy
by Stephanie Michaelis
Summary: Lyra Ianthe has finally attended Hogwarts and is now working as Potions assistant. She's rumored to play an important role in the fall of You-Know-Who. Dumbledore predicts she and Severus will fall in love. Only problem is she and Snape hate each other.
1. Leaving

Waiting was what was the hardest. I guess you could argue I had waited all my life for this, but this is more relevant to the last year or so. Specifically the last day. Morning crept by without as much as a word. Afternoon dragged by, not even a glance. I had dreams about this day, spent my time in class planning it out, and now that it was here…it seemed as though time was toying with me. Truth is, I could leave right now. I doubt anyone would look. But, there was that one fraction of a chance they'd pull something, and even though I'm only, an hour short of my final departure I wasn't going to risk my freedom in such a way. My stomach could be an acrobat the way it was flipping and my nerves were getting the better of me. I was apprehensive, restless, every word in the damn dictionary. I just want to leave, but in all fairness, I had nowhere to go. We lived a small way out of town, so I always had to hike to the bus stop when I attended school, on top of a hill overlooking a dreadful tumble. There wasn't much at the bottom. A thin trickling stream but it was mostly littered with all kinds of garbage. The yards were unkempt with all kinds of grass, weeds and who knows what else. The house itself was simple, two stories with a single concrete stoop. There was still a small swing set placed dangerously close to the edge, meant for me as a child, now worn and dirty with time. It's weird really, everyone always thought me mad, I swear whenever I told them where I lived they told me no house had ever been built on that cliff. I would have loved if they gave me some weird explanation, tell me a ghost story about how a girl and her family were murdered and burned alive and their ghosts haunted my house…but they never said any such thing. It would have given me some kind of reassurance, some explanation, some hint they were screwing with me, but there never was. My home apparently, simply did not exist to the others. That's part of the reason why I was so ready to leave. There wasn't anyone I was too unhappy about leaving behind. Eleven twenty. I tapped my collarbone mindlessly, wondering about my destination. Everything was always centered on escaping, but never where to. I certainly couldn't stay in the area if I wanted to break all ties. I can't remember the last time we visited my aunt, and my other uncle never cared for me. They never mentioned grandparents, so I suppose they must have died before I was born. I ran a hand through my mousy brown hair, tousling it. I lived closer to the attic and it was stifling hot up here. I guess I'll have to move, where to I had no idea. I had to get a job, that's for sure. Something small for now, waitressing maybe and I'll save up. But what after that? I had to find a career, and I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. I had to go from prisoner to successful adult real quick. The world was my oyster and I'm allergic to seafood. I hastily got up from my bed, which creaked nosily, and shuffled through my closet. I hadn't much I wanted to take with me, so I pulled out a medium sized pack. I gathered all my clothes, folded them to the best of my capability and shoved them in the bag. My journals fit in the side pocket, as did the pack of cards. I had all my toiletries and picked up some of the books I'd gathered from the years. Ten more minutes. The hall was dark, and flooded with shadow. I wish I could drive, I knew very well how, but we owned one beat up van and I didn't need them to report it stolen. I slung the pack over my shoulder and snuck as quietly as I could downstairs. For a moment, I considered leaving a note but then dismissed it, they'd get the message. The door clicked shut and suddenly, I felt overwhelmed. A smile sprawled across my face as a summer wind blew. The trail down the hill was rocky and uneven, I nearly fell more times than I could count and by the end I had pebbles in my boots but as I bathed in the moonlight spilling from behind the transparent swirling clouds I knew it was worth it. A chorus of crickets congratulated me with songs of a summer's humid night. The usually orange glowing lights had dimmed to nearly nothing except the occasional flicker, leaving me in utter paranoia. I walked quicker, jumping violently when I heard a distant pop. And then he was there, blocking my path. But this was no predator, in fact he had the looks of a grandfather, or a great grandfather… His half moon spectacles hid crinkled and glistening blue eyes perched atop a crooked nose. He looked like he was wrapped in a blanket spotted with stars and had forgot to trim his snow white hair and beard. Maybe he's delusional, but his smile reassured me he meant no harm.

"Hello Miss Ianthe."


	2. Magic

Lyra pov

I felt wary, considering I'd never told him my name.

"Excuse me?"

"Ah, don't be frightened. It's a bit of a long story, perhaps you'd like to come with me? I understand if you'd be more comfortable here, but the pavement is a cold hard place for me to rest and I don't know about you but I could go for a nice cup of tea." The prospect of leaving with a strange old man was ridiculous but the thought of bring someone seemingly so sweet any intentional pain made me cringe. He dug around in his robes and pried two sticky golden candies apart. "Lemon Drop?"

"I'll go with you, I suppose." I decided, popping the candy in my mouth and cringing at the sour tang.

"Excellent." He pulled what looked like a lighter out and pressed it, relinquishing several balls of light. "Take my arm." I did as he said, watching for any suspicious signs. Everything changed then, though he didn't move. I felt compressed, as though I was being shoved through a tube and spun. And suddenly, just as I was about to vomit, it all came to a halting stop. It was still pitch black except for the moonlight, and we were knowing a few feet away from a calm village. It was packed with small shops, glowing with light from within. The people lingering outside wore the odd clothes as well, maybe it was a religious group? I was taken aback by the sudden transportation. A man sitting outside what looked to be an ice cream shop was fiddling around with a twig, waving it about. I followed the man, wondering if I dare ask any of the thousands of questions flooding my mind. This didn't add up, what was going on? We stopped at some moderately rusted gates that surrounded a gorgeous, towering castle. Right about now it looked abandoned, the outside was well kept, but there were no signs that anyone lived here. I looked on at the other oddities, the outside was almost normal I suppose, but it was blooming with all kinds of species, more foreign than familiar. The old man provided no information, only held a knowing twinkle in his eyes. The castle was every bit as large as it appeared, with winding hallways, plagued with portraits. I felt terribly paranoid at first because they seemed to be moving, whispering but I dismissed it as my mind playing tricks on me and continued. We were climbing what felt like the hundredth flight of stairs when they stairs themselves lurched and started to pivot. I panicked, and hung on for dear life, but the old man just laughed.

"That's not how stairs work!" But the old man just laughed. We at last arrived at a pair of double doors. The frail man pushed them open and beckoned me forward. It was anything but mundane, the desk was the most normal thing in there. The portraits in here seemed to be moving, watching; there were all kinds of foreign objects in cases, oddly shaped candies in glassy dishes and a small scarlet bird perched just above the desk.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Ianthe. School of witchcraft and wizardry."

"You've got to be kidding. You can't actually expect me to believe— "

"The truth? I think I can. If you consider it, it isn't that much of a radical notion."

"Magic belongs in fairy tales."

"Every time, it always amuses me to watch muggleborn try and conceive some explanation to contradict my own, just to soothe them. We humans don't seem to like to accept the unordinary." He cracked half a smile and tapped the desk lightly with his wand. I nearly fell over as the once magnificent mahogany desk shrank into a plump pig, squealing and snorting in distress.

"I understand this is a lot. You were meant to receive an invitation to attend our school, but we had…a bit of a mishap trying to find you. But we have you know, and there's no time like the present to start.

"I still don't understand."

"You're a witch, dear. You'll understand it all in time." He tapped the hog casually, changing to once more; his every move was swift and relaxed, indicating this was not his first time.

"Your parents aren't like you. They didn't like the bouts of magic that leaked from you, that's why they seemed so bitter. I'll teach you the basics starting as soon as you're ready.

"Um. okay but-."

"Oh I've almost forgotten! We have to sort you! I s'pose it wouldn't really matter since you won't undergo a normal Hogwarts experience but its custom here at Hogwarts."

"Sort?"

"There are four houses, named after the school's founders and based on the qualities they valued." He fumbled in opening a small glass cabinet placed on the wall above him. It had all sorts of wonky silver and spinny contents, but he retrieved a beaten and worn hat, ripped at the brim. As he did so, the colorful chick squawked approvingly, ruffling his feathers. He dropped the too large hat on top of my head and to my shock, it started talking.

"Ahh I've been waiting ages to see you! Tough one to find aren't you? Well well, let's see what we've got. Not a bad mind. Loyalty hasn't really been tested…" he paused, contemplating for a good thirty seconds, the silence ringing. "Pretty close…I'd say…. SLYTHERIN."

The old man's eyes had a knowing twinkle as his cracked lips split into a grin. "Perfect." I, on the other hand, was utterly horrified by this oddity. Hats didn't talk after all. I must be experiencing some type of psychosis that must be it. I must have cracked under the pressure.

"You needn't worry for your sanity, dear; this is completely normal. Everyone reacts this way."

"I beg to differ."

"I guess we'll have to agree to disagree then." He replied with another wry smile.


	3. Learning

Lyra pov.

I was guided to a small room in the corner of the basement of the residence. It wasn't uncomfortable, but I began to realize how grim the situation was. I was presumably locked in a dungeon of a strange old man, with no one to care where I was or who knew where I was. The outcome was not looking good. Eventually I managed to drift into some much needed sleep, in which I had some spotty dream activity, but I only remembered the vaguest of details. I awoke in a cold sweat at first, and then I remembered where I was. The room itself was actually very pleasant, it was lit by a green tinted view of the lake outside, and accompanied with a fireplace and its own bathroom. At the end of the bed was a new chestnut trunk, and to my surprise it was bulging with clothing and items I'd never seen before.

"What the…" I unclipped the golden lock and the top popped open, revealing several stacks of robes, silky and in all colors imaginable. Underneath was a set of thick heavy books, topped with a silver and emerald bow, and a bit of parchment, that read, in large, loopy ink, "Welcome!" Blood rushed to my cheeks as I processed all of it, someone actually did this for me. Merlin, this must have cost a fortune.

"Rise and Shine Miss Ianthe. Oh, I see you've received the staffs welcoming gift." Albus had waltzed in, nonchalantly as if this were an everyday occurrence for him. Still robed in a too large t shirt from my high school days and a grey pair of sweatpants, I felt rather uncomfortable. Not everyday your teacher walks in on you in your pajamas...

"Staff? I haven't been here but twenty-four hours, why would they be so kind as to buy be all of this?"

"Well it's more the idea behind the gift. Not exactly everyone has heard of the news yet but all the same everyone supplied all the provisions you would need, just as a first year would need. Everyone did their part by donating some extra supplies." As I plunged through the newly acquired supplies, I found most were not so sew after all. But despite the years of wear and tear they must have endured, the few scratches and tears didn't bother me.

"Where did all these robes come from?"

"Madame Malkin, I've known her since Professor Snape was just a student! She happily gives me discounted prices anytime." There was a small molten pot at the bottom of the chest, it looked misshapen, almost like a pumpkin. Along with it were mismatched ingredients; some were lovely like rose petals and roots of asphodel. Others were slimy slugs and grotesque animal organs.

"Courtesy of Severus. Never much to spare in the Potions room I'm afraid." Whoever this guy is, I'll be sure to provide him with a heartfelt 'fuck you'. My attention had redirected itself unto something else; a long and narrow box was carefully placed at the bottom left corner.

"Now there's no guarantee this will work… the wand chooses the witch however…Hagrid seemed positive this wand would love you." I slipped off the delicate top and brushed aside the wrapping to find a neatly polished, twelve-inch wand.

"Made of blackthorn wood and a phoenix tail feather, go on, give it a wave!" he urged, pompous as always. I picked it up, fingering the indents of the small design engraved on the handle. Electricity felt as if it was soaring through my body, and as soon as I raised this wand, petals popped out as if I was the flower girl at a wedding. All colors, blue, white, black, yellow, orange, pink and of course red were swirling around me and I couldn't help but grin. I was amazed to say the least, this was the proof I have been waiting for, to tell me this wasn't a dream but all too real. I was a witch. I have power and control for the first time in my life. This was no lie.

"Magnificent, as expected."

"Who was it that got this for me?" I inquired, admiring the validation of this fantasy.

"Rubeus Hagrid, Gamekeeper of Hogwarts."

"I should thank him." I hopped to my feet, still oblivious to the fact I was still in my jammies, and was nearly out the door when Dumbledore interjected

"Oh there will be time for that later but now you must dress and ready yourself for your first lesson."

"Lessons right…"he flashed me that all knowing smile once more then left me to change. After a thorough scrub of my teeth, I finally shed my night clothes and gave myself up to the warm, inviting water of a shower. I missed this. I was usually the last to bathe at home which meant I always got stuck with the freezing cold water. I felt much more relaxed after I washed my hair (using the rose shampoo I'd used since I was fourteen, witch or not the smell was absolutely delightful!) then wrapped myself in a clean, warm, fluffy towel and realized I was more relaxed here than I had ever been at "home". After a tough game of eenie meenie miney moe (which caused a portrait passing through to call me the biggest Muggle he'd ever seen) I chose the midnight blue silk robe and slipped into it. My hair was a fluffy mess, despite my efforts at trying to tame it with a comb, and I skipped on the makeup, as I usually did. I walked out of my small room and tiptoed down the hall, up the stairs and eventually into Dumbledore's round office, I was immediately met with the aroma of freshly ground coffee and it was at this point I realized just how hungry I was.

"Sit, my dear, sit. Much to do today." He snapped his long fingers and a clean plate flew in front of me, and so did a bagel, practically glued to the late with butter. I eagerly began to eat as he dug through the chest, and pulled out the Transfiguration book.

"I don't suppose you wanted to start with History of Magic?" he joked with a wry smile and as I sipped my coffee nervously, pondering what would be in store for me. What if I can't do anything after all?

"I intend to have you at a seventh years level by the end of August. Now if you and I work vigorously and skip all those troublesome assignments I think we can manage but i must presume you'll be putting your best foot forward, understand?"

"Of course I will, sir." He dropped the serious tone and once again, I could detect a bit of mischief in his watery eyes. He placed a book in front of me, a few intimidating rips in the binding but nonetheless I flipped through the pages.

"Now you don't have to memorize or read every section of every book. Goodness no we'd be here all year! Just the basics like instructions for each spell and the chants needed and stances… but most of what you learn will come from me, not the book. It's all about focus" I copied his every move and at first, nothing would happen. I tried to believe it was just problem in stance or that I had pronounced something wrong, but in the back of my mind I felt as though something was fundamentally wrong with me. Why won't this stupid match turn to a needle? Apparently my frustration was evident so he had me switch to Potions that day. Ostensibly, this was really where I required skills since I'd at least start off as the potions teachers' assistant. But this came to me naturally, and despite the sometimes vile ingredients, it was almost like cooking. I was in complete control of the temperature and to his amazement I didn't blow anything up. The next day we came back to Transfiguration, this time we were doing to beetles to buttons spell. I was surprised when I managed at first to do a half transfiguration (my button still had legs) but soon enough this became easy, as did other spells; all I had to do was maintain my focus and be firm and careful when I pronounced each syllable.

"I must say you're a fast learner, Lyra." We mixed up the lessons, every day was different. We never aid much heed to History of Magic, he always told me it wouldn't assist me too much. We studied what was important of the past and the most modern events, the rise of the Dark Lord and ho he was defeated by such a mere child. The emphasis he paid on Harry Potter was ridiculous though. I asked why I needed to know so much about this boy, but I never got a through response, which only fueled my curiosity further. Herbology was not my favorite, mostly because the dirt never came out from under my nails and sometimes the plants would bite. Mostly, I enjoyed Potions and The Defense against the Dark Arts. I haven't a clue as to why, something about learning how to defend myself made me feel…not so helpless. Each creature had its own story and it was interesting to see how each one interacted differently. I soared up through the levels with ease, just as I was used to. I guess you could say if it can be learned by a book, I can do it. Eventually we came to a point where summer was drawing to a close.

"Lyra, the students will be arriving soon. And I am now more than confident that your abilities are fit enough for you to qualify for your future position."

"Are you sure sir?"

"Yes, but that does not mean your lessons will be at an end. I intend to keep teaching you the different branches of magic. You have such talent, my girl and once pruned and watered you will blossom." I blushed, feeling modest as ever.

"What else is there for me to learn?"

"Well there's the elective classes such as Care for magical Creatures and Astronomy, and muggle Studies, though I doubt you really need to study how you lived growing up so we can eliminate that, Occlumency, Divination, oh we'll keep you busy for sure! Not to forget the Patronus…but that's in the future. As of now, I think it's time you meet Severus, you're soon to be partner in crime during lessons." Severus…Merlin why does that name sound so familiar? I'm positive I haven't met him before. Oh well, I suppose this part was inevitable. Even with that in mind, butterflies ran amuck throughout my stomach. I was always just awful at meeting new people, it's always very stressful for me.

I exited the office gracefully and descended the steps, intending to return to my room and either get a little shut eye, or maybe to browse through some of my text books when I realized, I had no idea where I was. The dungeons were incredibly large, and I had only taken one way to get back to my room. Damn, why had I let my mind wander? Now I'm hopelessly lost and near nobody is here. When am I supposed to meet Snape? Of course, with my bad luck I would piss the guy off the first time I met him. Recently I had learned how to apparate, and if I had been anywhere else, I would have done so as quickly as the blink of an eye. Actually probably not since I'm still a little rusty. Albus had to fix me up after getting splinched a couple of times. Luckily, lately I had been doing better but still, better not to chance yet another injury. I mean really how bad can one guy be?

The answer is: very bad indeed.


	4. Potions

Lyra pov

I awoke in a haze, dreams clinging to me like an old friend. I showered, grateful for the warmth to shake the remnants of last night's encounters. It was awful

"Hello." I chimed, trying to be as cheerful as possible. The man's movement was mechanical and repetitive as he unpacked his belongings in his classroom, placing jars full of slimy animal bits and pieces on shelves. It was evident he had done this time and time again and was utterly sick of doing it. His appearance almost caught me off guard, he wore black wizard's robes to match his eyes and long hair and his nose was abnormally large. He wore a scowl and grumbled a greeting. He obviously didn't receive many visitors.

"Severus, this term I took it upon myself to find you an assistant. I have a feeling you'll both get along quite well." Added Dumbledore. I wasn't quite sure what I was to actually do here, besides introduce myself; the man did not look eager to conversate. He slowly turned to face us, his expression displaying utter disappointment mixed with a good amount of annoyance.

"Have I not been performing up to your standards?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. He was an interesting man, the type you might encounter in your storybook. Despite his cold attitude toward me I felt intrigued, wanting to know him just a bit more.

"No, you've done just fine. It's nothing you've done other than the fact I thought you were getting a bit lonely down here." He smirked and there was a twinkle of mischief in his sapphire eyes.

"I am not lonely." He hissed back, notably lightening to a shade of a light pink.

"Call it what you will, but Miss Ianthe is here to stay. Learn some patience and get to know her. It's for your own good." As Albus exited he swiftly turned and focused on me.

"I prefer working alone."

"Have you ever even tried working with someone other than yourself?" I huffed. My patience for this man was running thin. Then again I never had much patience to begin with.

"I'm not about to start with you. The feast will start soon. Go talk to Albus and see if he can find you a different position with someone else." He turned on his heel and his robes swirled around him, reminding me, strangely, of a bat.

"I don't have to take orders from you, you know." I shouted at him.

"Technically you'll be my assistant, so you will have to take orders from me."

I haven't talked to him since. So much for getting to know him, I'd be alright if I didn't have to speak with him for the rest of term. Now I did contact Albus, but it was based on my own displeasure with thee man, not because he told me to do so.

"I must apologize for Severus' sour attitude. I could tell you tales about that man that would explain why he's so bitter but it is best to let him tell you. And he will tell you one day I'm sure of it." He assured me this was the position that would be best for both of us, so I held my tongue and decided to trust his judgement, even if I was sure Snape would be a major pain in my ass this semester. I grew more anxious about the beginning of the years feast the closer it got. Not only would I be meeting my colleagues but I'd be on display for all the new and old students to analyze me and that's just not something I know how to handle. When you first meet me, I'm extremely shy and timid. You have to really try to get to know me to bring me out of my shell, which is part of why I never made any close friends in my school days. I showed up a bit late, the students already beginning to file, seventh years first due to seniority rules. My colleagues each began to size me up and I mindlessly began to tug and twirl at the ends of my rather short hair. Unfortunately for me, the only open seat was right next to Snape. I silently cursed myself for putting off my arrival, while trying t ignore the heated glares he seemed to be directing only at me. I snuck a glance whenever I could, and I could see him searching the masses as the sixth, fifth, fourth, third, second and finally the first years filed in one by one. I saw an old shriveled woman, posture incredibly straight and hair as black as the sky was now, boots clicking on the stone floor as she placed a worn wooden stool down and the hat who had sorted me a few months ago, in the center of the table. The kids looked almost like ants from up here, trembling in their too large robes as she shouted what would happen next. Some of their scowls and frowns evaporated to sighs of relief, others looked even more concerned as if they thought fighting a troll would be easier than having a hat peer inside their fragile minds. Snape was focusing on one student in particular and for a moment, he almost softened his hard gaze and relaxed his posture; almost. The boy's hair was dark as his was, with green eyes and something off about him, though I couldn't see from here. Something like a lost memory tugged at my nadirs of my mind, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it until the woman called out

"Potter, Harry." The name wasn't just familiar, it was legendary. It couldn't be the Harry Potter, the one from all the books I read, the one from my studies, the one who defeated the Dark Lord as a child, could it? Everyone swiveled around as I did, wondering the same questions out loud. The woman, Dumbledore referred to as McGonagall hushed everyone, begging the crowd to calm down. I now recognized the scar, branded on his forehead. The hat basically covered Harry's face he was so tiny, but despite this the hat called out loud and proud

"Gryffindor!" A table to the far left erupted in claps and cheers. A couple of red heads began chanting for him. As they did so, I noticed the rumbles coming from my stomach, I hadn't realized it but I was starving. I filled my plate to the rim with heap of toast beef, piles of mashed potatoes and all kinds of other delicacies.

The next morning I awoke and went through my morning routine as always, then dressed in some fine crimson robes; they were just my size and went well with the color of my hair. I reluctantly headed down to the dungeons early to begin my first day on the job.

"Listen Miss Ianthe, this is my classroom. I don't care what Dumbledore says, just sit and look pretty while I do the teaching." I felt undermined and disregarded; I was more than my appearance and this asshole wasn't going to demean me because he has a stick up his ass about working with me.

"I will help, as much as I want to, you ignorant cunt muffin." I whispered. Ever since I was little, I had had trouble controlling my temper. I will not allow anyone to walk all over me, not again.

"You haven't even had a proper education, how can you even fathom teaching what you obviously do not understand?"

"You haven't a clue the range of things I understand because you haven't given me the chance." Kids had begun to file in, so we both snuffed out the flame of anger we both set aflame. Every class was oaky, except the first years. He took attendance as normal but felt the need to add a sarcastic comment on one student in particular.

"Ah, yes. Harry Potter. Our new – celebrity." I did not understand this man's fascination with only this child. The rest of attendance was uneventful, as I ran it to Dumbledore's office. As I walked back to class I felt apprehensive, as if something were about to occur. I walked in the middle of his speech.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. As there is little foolish wand waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of the liquids that creep through the human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—as long as you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Suddenly he snapped out of his dialogue and turned, like a predator to its prey toward Harry.

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

The answer floated before me but I did not dare call it out.

"I don't know, sir." I couldn't stand that sick smirk on his face.

"Snape, no first year is going to be able to answer that. They're kids. Not Potions Professors." Some of the students looked surprised, as if I dare challenge this dictator in his own domain.

"Tut tut—fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"I don't know, sir"

"Why don't you ask someone else? This young girl up here seems to know." He shot me a glare and I returned the favor.

"What is the difference, Potter between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"It's the same plant damn it, making your firs year kids feel like crap because they can't answer higher level questions is a poor teaching tactic. I thought you were able to actually teach your students not just harass them?" The room was deadly quiet.

"Copy that down, you fools!" he hissed. I walked around the class as they attempted to brew their first potion. It was obvious it would be rocky since this was their first time, but Snape was crueler with each student, except for the kids in Slytherin, whom he showed obvious favoritism toward.

"Idiot boy! I suppose you added porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" he lashed out at a boy who was breaking out in awful boils due to his melted cauldron.

"Take him up to the hospital wing. You—Potter, why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor." By the time the kids left I was ready to explode.

"Why are you such an ass hat to Harry?" He has done nothing to you!"

"You don't know nor could you understand." I followed him, arguing the whole way to Dumbledore's office.

"That is none of your concern" he had been walking. I followed. We entered Dumbledore's office.

"Albus I cannot do this; not for the rest of the year nor any longer."

"Nor can I." I said.

"What seems to be the problem?" asked Dumbledore in a bemused tone.

"He is a pompous bastard!"

"She is a psychotic bitch!"

"Adorable." Said Dumbledore

"What?"

"The both of you, adorable. No you'll figure it out, I can't change it. Haven't you noticed how very alike you two are?"

"You're high, aren't you?"

"Tragic pasts, Slytherins, singleeee." He said the last in a sing song voice.

"Ugh…it will never happen." I left, disgusted

Severus pov

"How could you even suggest something like that?"

"Severus I have a feeling about you two. You don't like each other now, but you will later."

"No." I said simply.

"You may not like her now, but I think one day, she will capture your heart. Mark my words Severus, one day you will have your face in between her breasts." He said as he smirked.


	5. Halloween

Halloween at Hogwarts really was an otherworldly experience. Pumpkins floated above the ornate tables, candy corn and other holiday themed food littered the table. Everyone was as excited as ever, especially the first years, who stuffed their mouths full of candy corn and caramel apple bits. Then there was Wizarding candy such as Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's every flavor beans. Lyra tried everything, stuffing her mouth full of cauldron cakes; her favorite while avoiding the jelly beans; that was just playing with fire. Smirking evilly, she offers an earwax flavored bean to Snape innocently. He simply looks up from the food he had been picking at, and glares at her.

"I fell for that once in my first year. I will not make the same mistake twice." He growls. She sighs pushing the aeneous colored bean to the edge of her gilded plate. She had never gone trick or treating as a child, her family did not typically celebrate holidays. But nevertheless she still enjoyed the holiday. She had been bitter about it as a child, but now she enjoyed it the most, seeing all the other children have fun and indulge in sweet and pranks made her smile.

"What flavor did you get?" she probed. It was the most civil exchange they had had in weeks.

"Vomit."

"Oh no." I had no sympathy for the acrimonious old man; he was an ass to me, after all. In fact, I almost found that little exchange funny. The last few weeks, or had it been months now? Had been hell. For everyone involved. For older students, it was awkward. They were used to Snape's abuse and felt obstinate toward the changes in the classroom, especially when we argued. And believe me, there were several spats. It wasn't like I was being unreasonable; it was common human decency I was requesting from him. Don't call her big foot, don't threaten to poison that boy's owl, just normal things. And the one thing I could not tolerate, was the one he did most; Don't give me attitude. I had taken so much verbal abuse over the years, I had almost grown accustomed to it. But I had a new resolve when I left that house; I would treat myself with respect, and I would demand to receive it as well. So, teaching with this bitter old hag was torture, and almost every class would end with us fuming mad. This was technically the best Halloween I'd ever had. Until a man in an amaranthine turban ran through the halls, looking absolutely petrified.

"Troll! In the dungeons! Troll in the dungeons!" He screamed, turban askew. Oh great. What a perfect thing to ruin my night. Quirrell looked as if he had instead seen a dragon. Frantically he looked side to side, then promptly feinted on the spot. The crowd becomes a frenzy, the first years especially freaking out. Were they certainly doomed? It took a few fireworks form Albus' wand to calm the chaos.

"Prefects, will lead the students to their common rooms. Teachers follow me to the dungeons." Shit. I had barely ever practiced magic outside of Dumbledore's office, aside from a few hexes I tried to cast at Snape…He was fast though. So at the prospect of having to help in a crisis like this, I felt…useless. What if I couldn't do anything? I had to hold my own, or Snape will hold that against me. In fact, as I stood up my stomach was doing flips and my palms were sweaty. Everyone seemed to be looking at me. I followed Albus out, watching my step and shaking slightly. After all, what help could I be? I knew I shouldn't be this nervous, but I could not exactly help it. Worrying had always been a bad habit of mine. I headed up the back, walking slowly; I had noticed an absence which both intrigued and soothed me. Snape was nowhere to be seen. I looked around to see a wisp of a black cloak around the corner. I was tempted to follow him; he was heading toward the stone and that, with what a shady character he was, I did not trust him in the slightest. I suppose I should because Albus certainly did and had Albus been wrong before? Well, besides about the part about us falling in love. The thought still made me shudder. We reached the dungeon only to find, after some time of exploring, that there was no troll.

"I wonder where it could have gone…" I muttered to no one in particular. Who could have let the troll in in the first place? With its low level of intelligence, there's no way it could have just wandered through the gates. Probably Peeves, thinking of a grand Halloween prank. But I couldn't shake the lingering feeling that something bad was brewing within the school. Was the stone in danger?

"Minerva and Lyra, come with me." Instructed Dumbledore. So I followed him, presumably going to search for the troll. Minerva I could understand. She was his right hand woman after all. But why me? I could hear crashes and screams of terror the closer we got to the girl's bathroom. Who had run in there? Of course, it had to be the star of the year, Harry Potter and his sidekick Ron Weasley. I had learned their names right form the get go. Not just because he was legendary but because Snape seemed to harbor a particular grudge for this boy. She could never pry it out of him. He would growl at her and grunt and tell her to back off. As they approached the bathroom she noticed a particularly pungent smell. Trolls weren't very pleasant in any sense. It was then I noticed Snape had rejoined the group.

"Where were you?" I hissed, suspicious.

"Elsewhere. It is none of your concern." He breathed back in that deep velvety voice I hated.

"Fine, be a bitch then." i muttered. The scene was quite a mess with Hermione clutching her knees to her chest and breathing heavily, and the two boys huffing and puffing. The one immaculate bathroom was now in shambles. The troll, which was easily twelve feet tall, and had skin gray and lumpy like a rock, was laying at their feet. I frowned: how had three first years taken out a troll? I didn't even know if I could have taken one out! Quirrell ran in at this moment as well, looking as shaken as ever and fell to a nearby stall, clutching at his fragile heart. Snape looked disgusted, while I had never seen Minerva so upset.

"Explain yourselves! Both of you!" Both boys looked at each other and I sensed an air of chivalry about them.

"I'm sure they have a good explanation." I defended.

"It was my fault Professor. I read about them and thought I could handle them. But I was wrong. If Harry hadn't come and found me, I'd probably be dead." Confessed Hermione. But it was then I stopped listening. As interesting as this whole ordeal was, I was captivated by Snape's bleeding leg. This man…had been nothing but hostile and had disappeared at exactly the same time as the troll was roaming, heading directly for the stone. Did he have something to do with the stone?


	6. Chapter 6- Quidditch

Where had it gone? If anyone else finds it, there would be some explaining to do. She had to search...even there. Lyra padded down the dungeons, praying he wouldn't be there. Speaking of him, she still nursed an inkling of a suspicion about him. He was surrounded by mysteries, secrets and uncertainty all wrapped in a aloof personality. It was like he wanted to be disliked. Well, just to spite him, she would not give him what he wanted. Still, she hoped to Merlin he wasn't in his office

But she had no such luck. Severus Snape stood, cloak and robes lifted to reveal a skinny pale leg, with a revealed angry, bloody wound.He fixed her with a piercing gaze, and anyone more craven than Lyra would have ran. In fact, the old Lyra would have turned tail and ran with a hurried 'sorry!' Instead she rolled her eyes and approached him. Before he can retreat, she falls to her knees in front of him, and examines it. His eyes widen just a tad bit, before asking

"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed.

"What you obviously can't do." retorts Lyra, beginning to bandage and sterilize the would.

"I am perfectly capable--."

"Yeah, sure. What did you even do? It looks like a bite mark."

"Walked out to the courtyard, and Care of Magical Creatures class got out of hand."

"Mmmhm. What kind of creature was it?"

"A graphorn." Snape replies cooly.

"I call bullshit."

"And what is it that leads you to believe I have been untruthful?"

"Because the care of Magical Creatures classes held this week were all below the level of a graphorn. Professor Grubblyplank would not make third or fourth years tackle something that is seventh year work. Plus, you never go outside the dungeons or Great Hall, much less outside. Unless you are coaching, but the season starts today and Slytherin has only had three practices, all dating before you got this injury." Explained Lyra, causing Snape to scowl.

"If you are so intuitive, why were you not sorted into Ravenclaw?" He asks

"I wouldn't know, that was the Sorting hat's decision."

"Pity you weren't. Then you'd be someone else's problem."

"Well I wasn't. If I'm such a problem, why don't you leave?"

"Because this is my office."

"Don't you have a game to be coaching?"

"Yes. However there is a nuisance in my office I refuse to leave unattended."

"Sounds like a personal problem." Lyra grabs her book, spins on her heel and leaves the room. The dark arts being studying on one's own time looks rather suspicious. It could mean you're up to no good. If Snape had found that book, and reported it, he might have grounds in the future to have her sacked. That would not be ideal, so she hoped he hadn't noticed it. She must have left it in the Potion room and Snape must have rounded it up along with other lost belongings at the end of the day. While it was unlikely, she hoped he hadn't examined it. Lyra hugged her cloaks closer to her, the chilly November air infiltrating her body, tendrils stroking her skin until it erupted in goosebumps. The field was covered in frost, everything looked dull and grey. The animals who were not cold resistant had retired for the winter and hidden away, leaving everything dreary. To her dismay, Snape comes along and sits just a few rows down from her. Quidditch was something new to her, and she heard that Harry Potter himself was on the team. Apparently, a first year making the team was unheard of. She was not one for heights, so when she was offered lessons she promptly refused. She'd avoid flying at any cost. There was a banner fluttering in the breeze, that read Potter for president.

"Now I want a nice fair game, all of you. Mount your brooms, please." she commanded. As soon as they took off, the announcer, a Gryffindor by the last name of Jordan, she believed (she at least recognized the voice.) began to narrate their every move.

"And the Quaffle is taken by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor, what an excellent chaser that girl is, and rather attractive too--."

"JORDAN!" Berated McGonagall. Yes, definitely Lee Jordan, same year as the Weasley twins. He was much like them in the way he was very amusing and easily distracted. That class was almost as bad as the first years. Lyra couldn't even imagine the amount and cruelty of the detention that group had suffered through before her arrival, for Potions class alone.

"Sorry, Professor. And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good friend of Oliver Woods, last year only a reserve, and back to Johnson, and--no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle!" While she should be rooting for her own house, and on one hand she was, she also didn't want Gryffindor to lose. What hell Potter would catch if he lost his first game, and she did NOT want to see a satisfactory sneer plastered onto Snape's face.

"Slytherin captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle, and there he goes--Flint flying like an eagle up there--and he's going to sc--no. stopped by an excellent

move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle --

that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint,

off up the field and -- OUCH -- that must have hurt, hit in the back of

the head by a Bludger -- Quaffle taken by the Slytherins -- that's

Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a

second Bludger -- sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell

which -- nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in

possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes -- she's

really flying -- dodges a speeding Bludger -- the goal posts are ahead come on, now, Angelina -- Keeper Bletchley dives -- misses --

GRYFFINDORS SCORE!" The Scarlet portion of the crowd screams. Harry circles above the rest, searching for a hint of a golden ball, the key to real victory. "Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan continued., "Chaser Pucey ducks

two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the --

wait a moment -- was that the Snitch?" Lyra, who had been lost in her own thoughts as the game unfolded, perked up. Everyone tensed as the two seekers sped up, dipping and weaving around the chaos of the game. Harry was on the brink of ending the game, when a thud is heard. The Slytherin captain had blocked Potter's path, and almost sent him sprawling. Ashamed of her own house clear foul play, Lyra turns away. Gryffindors all over yell in pure outrage. Someone is demanding Flint receive a "red card." She lets out an airy laugh, probably being one of the few people who understood the soccer term. She had never played, but it was common knowledge in the Muggle world.

"So -- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating--"

"Jordan!" Snarled McGonagall

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul."

'Jordan, I'm warning you --"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession." Harry, meanwhile had felt a sudden lurch in his Nimbus 2000. That was odd, but it crossed into concerning when it happened again. Soon, he was out of control, bucking wildly all through out the air. There was a icy wind, that ruffled her hair and Snapes, revealing his mouth to be moving. But no one was near him enough to be talking. Suspicious, Lyra stands and tries to get a closer look. And then, stepping on her own too large evergreen robes, takes a tumble. Thrashing wildly, she desperately searches for something to latch onto, grabs poor Professor Quirrels violet robes, taking him down with her. And who else would she have fallen on but the man she despised most here at Hogwarts? Both groan, and she attempts to lift herself, hits her head and falls back onto Snape's chest.

"Get off of me." Commanded Snape. This pisses her off, as if she wanted to be there! But nonetheless she does, and extends a hand to help him up. He eyes her warily.

"Stop being an obstinate infant and accept help" she growls. As if to spite her, he does not and rises by himself. Meanwhile, she catches a glimpse of what is going on in the field. Harry, is on the ground looking like he's about to heave. Just as all hope is lost, he coughs out a fluttering golden ball, and the congregation screams in victory.

"GRYFFINDOR WINS!" announces Madam Hooch, the Gryffindors celebrate while the Slytherins sulk.

What had caused that bout of uncontrollable nonsense? Had Snape been responsible? She knew he loathed Potter, but enough to kill him?


	7. Chapter 7- Loss

Christmas was usually a time of joy, a time for family. Lyra, having no family around, spent it alone, one of the few teachers in the castle. She read up on the Dark arts, she didn't know what but something about it enticed her, called to her. Not that she'd practice it or go running to become a dark wizard. She had just always been attracted to the darker things in life. Besides, it wasn't so bad. The teachers sent her Christmas cards, the Weasleys sent her a box of chocolate frogs, and Albus sent her a Slytherin scarf. It was the most friendly Christmas she had ever had. Her parents did not write. Of course they didn't know where she was and she preferred it that way. It was just saddening to be constantly deprived of a parent's love. They never really gave her gifts and while the other kids at school would always rant about the gifts Santa had brought them, she always sat, read her books and stayed quiet. That was the way to go unnoticed and when she went unnoticed, they left her alone. Unfortunately, Snape also stayed at the castle over break. She didn't understand. Did he not have a wife or family to go home to? If he did, she sympathized with them. She snickered at the thought, the overly bitter man probably didn't, considering his personality. Then again, she wasn't one to talk. She had no one either. She doubted she ever would. But that was besides the point. Soon break was over, and the students and their instructors returned reluctantly. Potter and friends behavior had changed, they acted wary and suspicious of Snape, which was a feeling I understood. The spats continued between Snape and I, I couldn't comprehend why Albus had us of all people paired up. His hypothesis was completely wrong. I could never fall in love with a man as haughty, bitchy, and irrational (the list could go on) as Severus Snape. As the second semester progressed she began to worry. Where would she stay once the semester drew to a close? What would happen to her? She wouldn't mind some time off from Snape, but the other aspects she would definitely miss. One day, she was making way to the Great Hall when she noticed a large reduction in the amount of stones in the Gryffindor hourglass. It was dangerously low.

"What the hell?" She muttered. To be completely honest, her immediate suspect was Snape. Who else would steal all those points to spite everyone? Potter, Granger and Weasley all looked ashamed. They were the victims of many glares as well. She could only guess what had happened, until she arrived at the teacher's lounge. They were honestly just as bad as the teenagers with the gossip. Eventually she deduced that the three students were caught out after hours. There was a bit about a dragon, but she didn't quite trust that. It was like the Muggle game telephone, each time the story is told it's altered a little. Snape harbored a smug look on his face that disgusted her.

It was a few days later that after class, Potter approached her. Snape had stole off to lunch, and she stayed behind this time to clean up.

"Uhm, Professor Ianthe?" he asked.

"Yes, Potter?" Lyra answered rather politely.

"There's a sensitive matter I'd like to ask about. And you seem to be the only adult who might believe me.." he began. That was when she felt rather important, being trusted by one the most important wizards in the world. And, him being so small and vulnerable, she couldn't find it in her heart to reject him. And why would she?

"Go on."

"We found out about the Sorcerer's Stone." Lyra's heart sank. No one besides the staff was supposed to know about that...how had he..?

But she maintained her composure, and asked

"Who is "we"?"

"Ron, Hermione and I. It was an accident, really

But the important part is…" he lowered his voice. "We think someone is after it." It was then she sat down, out of shock, in Snapes chair.

"Do you have any idea who?" This couldn't be some kind of prank. No eleven year old could make this up.

"Well...Professor Snape.." he replied softly. Suddenly, everything made sense. "It's not just because of how he treats me, I swear. We saw him disappear on Halloween, and he came back with a bite mark, there's a three headed dog guarding the stone. Hermione and Ron saw him muttering some kind of incantation when my broom was wonky. Something is definitely wrong." The bite mark he lied about, his moving lips, his disappearance. "I think it's odd that-." Lyra abruptly clamps her hand over Harry's mouth. He was always quiet, but she could hear the faintest of footsteps approaching.

"I promise I will look into the matter, Potter." she formally ends the conversation. He seems to get the gist of who's coming, nods, and leaves. Snape enters right as Potter leaves, and he raises a thin eyebrow at her.

"What was that?" He inquires.

"Just a question about Potions, is all." Lyra steps out, unwilling to be in the same room as him, more suspicious than ever.


End file.
